Ottava Rima Poems | Ottava Rima Examples

Melding with silence, formless soul presence feels, soundless thunder, the sound of one hand clapping, borne by bliss magnetism, touch divine that heals each cell of form, be we awake or napping, piercing veil of space, which light of Self conceals, our heavenward return, gently so mapping. Along with the thunder, comes rapture unbound, breath by breath as we tip toe on...

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Given that God alone is the all there is and all manifestations are but a dream, to find out who we are is then not a quiz, for as we are bathed in light of love’s moonbeam, from our heart bursts forth, a thunderous bliss fizz, whence we see this world is not as it does seem. When our eye is...

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We navigate life's stanza's quirky rhyme, as through obscuring fog we strain to see two well worn roads on the landscape of time. One leads through the mist of what's yet to be, revealing lofty mountains we will climb, and a grown prince and princess, you and me. Images, sometimes false and sometimes true, we discern what will...

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whatever be our fate in this dream template it matters not to Self, which is living light time is an illusion and so we can wait seeing the dream unfold by day and by night as long as bliss magnetism does not abate we remain rapturous in drunken delight be this as it may, there must be a purpose of our presence...

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The cosmic egg splits, wherefrom two forms emerge, the polarities of Self, male and female, who seek to unite as of soul’s innate urge, so descending from head to heart, they set sail, where their union results in a bliss upsurge, after which the brew of dark desires seems stale. Likening head to ego and heart to God, we stoop to conquer,...

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The child grew up, then one day he flew away, memory of siblings totally erased and so it does reman till this very day, of his indifference remaining unfazed, ignoring parents on whose lap he did play. Methinks in meadows of love he has not grazed, so he is a cripple, living in the dark, yet to sense the light, on soul’s...

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We’re he who spirit has chosen to christen, transforming within form each and every cell, which reflecting God’s light, sparkle and glisten, synced to rhythm of bliss beats, boding all is well, that thus gentling attention, as we listen, we sense vibrations of Om, the cosmic bell. In time form becomes a flame that has no name; tempest of bliss...

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Wherefrom arises will and steadfast resolve, in this body apparatus made of dust and if we’re not this form, who does evolve, given that body-mind will return to earth’s crust, perhaps a jigsaw puzzle mind cannot solve, as we yet labour shifting toward pathways just? Rotating polarity, the truth is known, upon transmuting as love and light full blown....

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with the staff of power illuminated a flame that surges forth from our very core dance of vibrance signals heart is elated as all nodes within form thus begin to soar the truth of Self within us so created osmotically penetrates every pore that eternal presence anchored in this form becomes the epicentre of God’s bliss storm...

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Sequential Star Light Dance Form: Ottava Rima The stars align in steps we cannot see, A waltz of thought, of time, of soul unrolled. Each shimmer sings a silent symphony— A coded tale in light and spiral told. They move as one in timeless unity, Though split by myths the ancients dared unfold. Each star a pulse, each orbit knows the trance— The sky...

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With bliss magnetism having exhumed ego, we’re no longer impacted by fickle fate, living internally in staid stillness slow, distanced from patterns of old that used to bait, for knowing life is but a dream, we’ve let go, trusting God to carry us to heaven’s gate. Having been, seen and so known our Self as light, we embody this wisdom by day...

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The masks we wear, a subtle, shifting guise, A tapestry woven of falsehood and truth, Where hidden motive behind kind eyes lies, And fleeting passions betray youthful ruth. We seek connection, yet often despise, The very closeness that blossoms in youth. Our hearts are a maze, where reason negates The primal urges that demand our fates. We build our empires on lies and...

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One has a pair of wings the other none, both possess a different shade of beauty. That bird’s able to fly the man can run, to each the other’s life seems so easy. The man can relay ancient stories spun as birdsong jams decorating the Sun. Both will capture the spirit of nature while enjoying the role of spectator....

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If Self be complete, which boon should we invoke, whilst remaining still, bereft of attribute? These were words the worthy hermit to us spoke, though he was himself, bewitched by Krishna's flute. Fire of burning desire, we no longer stoke; all we truly do, is breath by breath reboot. Flowing like the breeze, mode embrace and release, we weave our way through...

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The mind, a garden once of vibrant hue, Now shadowed by the creeping silent frost, Where recollections once so clear and true, Like fragile petals, one by one are lost. The paths we walked, the skies of gentle blue, The voices loved at what a painful cost, They slip away like whispers on the breeze, And leave us yearning for remembered ease. ©bfa040425 ...

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